Morning Dove

Let me be perfectly frank: I often want, consciencely and subsciencely, to be my own Savior. And as much as I tell myself otherwise, I have a hard time convincing myself of the opposite. Still, though, in rare, beautiful moments of intimacy, God reminds me, "Oh, Beloved. Be glad you are the Saved!"

As you might guess, this was one of those moments.

On Saturday, I was invited by a friend here to go with him to his church, (a mennonite church... now that I've committed to Goshen, I seem to meet mennonites everywhere!) and hang out with some of his friends. However, since my friend plays in the worship band, we had to leave a little early. While the "grupo de alabanza" was practing, I was sitting silently in the sanctuary. It was a small and simple 2nd-story room, but nonetheless, very lovely. Still though, I was a little bored. I wandered to every window, glanced briefly at the bulliton board, and finally settled back into my pew. After trying- and failing miserbly -to pray and to rest, I consigned myself to listening to the music.

After humming absently to a few of the songs, I saw, out of the very corner of my eye, two lovely white birds fly quickly past the window. I paused for a moment. As the title probably implies, I really love the  image of birds. I love that God knows when each sparrow falls to the ground- a sparrow! -and for this reason, I often refer to myself, (at least in my relationship with God), as his dear, Little Sparrow. Beautiful, right? And yet, my Mom has always called me her morning dove.  It seems to me, that God is trying to tell me I am worth much more than many sparrows. In fact, I am his Beloved, in whom he is well pleased.

Now, I cannot say for sure whether those two beautiful white birds were actually doves. Honestly, I don't even know if Bolivia has doves. But I can say, with utmost confidence, that God sent them as a special reminder to me. Why? For several reasons, but mostly because life here is wonderful, but not necessarily what I expected. You know, I thought I came here to be touched and to touch lives, and I'm realizing that it's still life. I still need to eat breakfast in the morning, and babies still have runny noses. Mostly, I'm realizing that just because I'm living in a third-world country, it doesn't mean that everyday is a MIRACLE! ... It just means that everyday is blooming with little, transient, ephemeral miracles, (just like it is back home), and that either way, I am Beloved and I am Blessed.

This, then, has been my prayer: Indeed, Lord, I am delighted to accept your invitation.

Blessings from the Blessed, Kristi